Raihimon = Rhihimon

Chapter 40: Digital World: Dark Evolution X

"How are you doing, really?"

The kid huffed a breath that didn't sound as effortless as it was probably intended and more than just a bit irritated. "Have you gone deaf? I'm fine. Just like the other ten times you have asked."

Davis found that very hard to believe, what with the cold -cold!- blood having tickled from Tommy's hip on AeorV-dramon's back and from there into Davis' clothes. "You have a hole in your side." It was downright crazy, that Tommy wasn't kneeling over in pain. It was also crazy that Davis didn't insist they treat it; now.

But not only didn't they have anything to treat it with, Tommy insisted that the coldness of high and fast air travel was the best medicine that could be given to him. "It is freezing close, also like the last ten times you asked." He gave Davis a look over his shoulder. "If I'm starting to get a fever, you need to worry. I'm holding the Ice Spirits, you know."

"I know that." Very much so, in fact. Davis was freezing; his cold clothes and close cut with drowning didn't exactly help. "I just don't see how that is going to be helpful."

Tommy sighed, sounding eerily like his friends sometimes did. "If my wound is freezing that means that it can heal all that easier."

Davis frowned. "Medicine doesn't work that way."

High in the air and racing at high speeds as it was, voices sometimes got lost, but Davis was pretty sure he didn't misunderstand Tommy's, "Real World medicine maybe doesn't. But this is the digital world and I'm Ice. Without any professional medics, throwing the same element at an ill digimon is the best treatment there is. Don't tell me you didn't know that."

Pretty sure the cold spot in his stomach didn't come from the outside, the Second Chosen of Courage didn't stop at this line of thinking. "But you aren't a digimon." Then he amended, "you at least don't look like one." But that was self-explaining, wasn't it? There were high evolutions that looked absolutely harmless. Appearances don't matter in the digital world. "So you really are more digimon than human?"

"Pretty much," the four years younger boy confirmed without any meaningful inflection. "Evolution still doesn't work as well as I'd like, but I'll just have to practice that. Sometime."

Sometime, when there was time. "So what does it feel like, being a digimon?"

Tommy's head turned, startled. "What?"

Davis couldn't resist a grin. "I mean I could ask AeroV-dramon, but first I don't think I can manage to get him hear me over the wind, but mostly he has always been a digimon so he couldn't tell me the differences."

Blinking twice in bewilderment, Tommy's expression slowly drew into a contemplating frown. "It's not so different, I suppose," said loudly over the air currents eventually. "Except there are some things hot-wired into your head. Like how to materialize battle axes or snow blasters. And instincts are a lot faster and more ingrained. The world looks a lot simpler; more in shades of black and white than a rainbow." He paused briefly. "And fighting is a lot easier. Since combat is part of the digital make up, but otherwise..."

"I don't get it," said Davis bluntly. "What do you mean the world is a lot 'simpler'?"

Tommy turned his head back front and Davis couldn't even see his profile for a moment. The pause was long this time and when Tommy did speak, it was with carefully constructed words. "Take a look at the digital world. I don't really know yours, but I bet it isn't different from ours in that regard. Do rulers exist?"

"Yeah. Qinlongmon." What was that dragon called? A sovereign?

"But he doesn't really do much, does he?" Guessed Tommy. "Just making sure the digital world isn't collapsing. Due to whatever cause, right?"

"I guess."

Tommy nodded as if Davis had said something of great importance. "It is the same with ours. We got three ruling angel digimon: Lady Ophanimon, Lord Seraphimon and Lord Cherubimon, but the only things they do, basically, is watch over the Spirits and making sure there aren't some kind of violent civil wars breaking out that would destroy the world." Turning his head back as far as he could, Tommy met Davis' eyes. "Nothing more and nothing less. Within that, digimon live as they please and as their nature defines them. The end." He puffs a breath.

"I still don't get it," said Davis.

"Because you are human," Tommy began. "Think of it like this: Humans are intellectually directed beings. But digimon aren't like that. We have other basic programmings. Some want to fight, some have it as their lives goals to sit on a mountain and meditate. Not just as exceptions, but as whole populations."

Davis thought that over. "I still don't get it."

Tommy shrugged. "Like I said. That is because you are human. You have different priorities."

"Like what," Davis asked, challenging.

"Moral code. Different ethics. You think about reaching a goal the right way. Digimon mostly think about the best way. If that overlaps with the right way, or if the right way doesn't have extra costs that can't or don't want to be payed, then that is great. But no more, no less." He adds after a short pause, "holy digimon are the only exception to that."

Koichi sat at the shore, bare feet tickled by water.

The water wasn't cold, but it also wasn't warm. It's substance was neither heavy nor light, it was neither oily nor clean. Mostly, it looked as black as a night's sky, but when Koichi let some of it run over his hand, he saw it was just as see-though as every other ocean water.

It didn't leave his hand wet.

Leaning back, Koichi looked at the gray clouded sky; no matter where he looked, the sky was always the same. Not even patterns in the clouds appeared. Ever.

If Koichi needed one word to describe this place, it was stale.

No matter how he looked at it, no matter where he looked, everything was stagnating, never changing, not even moving.

At least, he thought, the sand is comfortable.

This place, wherever he was, was a world of darkness. However it wasn't true, it wasn't right.

The Dark Continent back home was as darkness was supposed to be; Koichi remembered it vividly. Eternal night, creatures of shadows and darkness, adapted and passive with dangers lurking in wait. There was evil there, too, as Darkness was the perfect hiding space, yet as passive as it was, it was not stale.

Koichi turned the word around in his head with mild distaste. Dark, passive, neutral, powerful; that was what Darkness was supposed to be. If it ever turned stale, then it was no longer Darkness at all. Stale Darkness would inevitably turn gray, into half formed shadows and lose all but the barest flickers of its power and then it would be consumed, collapsed, destroyed, eradicated to the last trail and in its place, something different would be. And not necessarily darkness.

Yet. And Yet.

Koichi was in a place that did not get anymore stale than it already was. The very idea that it still existed despite it was difficult to comprehend. That which was weak died. There was nothing weaker than Stale Darkness.

It should be impossible.

Yet this place exited. How was that possible?

No matter how he thought about it, Koichi only saw one possibility. This place was not devoured, because there was nothing to devour it. There was nothing to devour it, because nothing else existed.

Nothing else existed because this was a dead world. Entirely separated from everything that wasn't stale by dimensional barriers, it was not wonder...

The apocalypse had come, the world had ended and nothing had appeared to saved it. A tragedy, truly, and even if he might be able to do something about it, if only calling forth true Darkness and letting it swallow the rest of the world, he did not. It was not his place to do, he had no motivation to. Darkness was no one's savior. Not even his own, therefore Koichi was doing nothing but waiting to be found.

Maybe it would happen soon, maybe never. Whatever it was, it was not Koichi's place to change it.

Koichi's eyes fell half shut, fingers trailing in the sand.

Lying down, the host of the Spirits of Darkness sighed, closing his eyes, but also not willing to keep them open. He lay still, not sleeping, not awake, not moving, breath coming slowly and calmly, listening to his heartbeat, feeling the building resonance.

For how long he rested there, undisturbed, he did not know and did not care.

Sand crunched near him under the weight of steps, water splashed and Koichi opened his eyes slowly. Ash was floating in the air.

Shadows with yellow eyes, vague forms, only seemingly half solid stared at him.

"Are you...the...one?" The one to the front asked, voice raspy and dead. "Are you...," echoed another as the beings surrounded him, though not threateningly and at a respectful distance.

"We have...been waiting," said another, glowing eyes unblinkingly locked on Koichi.

Koichi didn't stir, watching the sky and the clouds dispassionately. No change, passivity, neutrality; everything seeped of darkness. Ash-covered, blood-dabbled since death.

"Are...you...the Chosen?"

With eery accuracy, Koichi turned his gaze to the speaker, still not finding it in him to move, even though he was neither tired nor hurt nor unwilling. "...Chosen?" There is no need to raise his voice beyond a whisper.

"We serve...our old God...in the...depth...", rasped another, cloaked voice like a drowned man. "We have...been waiting..."

Slowly, Koichi sat up, hands limply in the sand and his feet still touching the sea. "For what?"

"For...our God...to...revive...waiting...for so long."The shade came closer, warping a ghostly hand around his arm with surprising strength. Koichi trailed his eyes up from where he was held, up the beings arm into it face. Desperate strength.

They were desperately clinging to existence, having forgotten everything. Languidly, his free hand raised itself to the creature's face and with a soft touch, he set on an almost none-existing cheek. What a sad existence. "I am not the one you are waiting for," he told them softly.

Not one of them reacted much to his words, but Koichi was aware of their faded hope being crushed. Pitful beings, created by tragedies and emotions, but so very strong.

Koichi respected strength in any form and matter and for as old as he sometimes felt, for as old as parts of him were, his chest was heavy with understanding and admiration. How long have they been fruitlessly waiting and still held on? Ages, eons at least. "I am not," he repeated. "But I know who you are waiting for. I will bring the one here. I promise."

The grip on his arm tightened. "Chosen...," they whispered.

Doing nothing to free his limp, Koichi calmly repeated, "not me." His body did not feel stiff as he rose to his feet. "I will leave and come back with your Chosen." He met the yellow eyes, passively. "Will you let me go?"

For an eternity, nothing changed, no one moved, then the hand eased away from Koichi's skin, leaving a dark and bruised hand print. "...we are...waiting..."

"You are," the brother who was once unacknowledged agreed. His heart was beating powerfully in his chest. "Not for long." Only once before had he had wings, the memories clouded, but the wings that grew for the host of Darkness now were nothing like those.

Gold and hard, light but stable, layered and smooth, they fit well to the armor covering him. Powerful, they did not need to beat to raise the digimon off the ground.

"The ground is so far away, the ground is so far away," muttered Joe fearfully, then shook his head in determination. "It is not far away. It is just there. I'm not going to fall and I'm not going to die if I fall. It's not far away..."

"What are you waiting for Joe! Come on!" Yelled Gomamon from the oh so far other end of the rope bridge. "We are going to take forever like this!"

"If I fall, then it is going to take never instead of forever," he continued to himself, grasping the next bit of rope and taking a careful step to the next plank. "Why do these things always happen to me?"

Having appeared in the middle of some steep, rocky, dangerous mountains was the ultimate joke. Almost everywhere would have been better than here, the ocean best of course. There, Gomamon would have only needed to evolve and everything would have been much easier. Gomamon could swim, Joe could get carried, but no, of course the one with fear of heights had to land in a place where there was hardly any place that was not higher than most skyscrapers and where was hardly enough water to drink never mind comfortable travel.

Oh, how much he wished to be anywhere else.

And Vamdemon's old caste was just there.

How had he been catapulted outside anyway?

TK was fascinated as well as uneasy.

Uneasy he was, because not matter what, labyrinths tended to be death traps in one from or another. So far, he, Cody and their partners had not stumbled over anything more dangerous than randoms rocks to stumble over, but it was also true that they had seen nothing but walls, more walls, glowing moss reflected in the inch of water covering the ground and the occasional faded art.

He was fascinated however, because no matter it being a labyrinth, it was beautiful. A strange mix of hand made walls in tune with natural growth of moss and water. It was never absolutely dark, but never too bright either, the echo of their steps and the splashing of water was sometimes eery, but other times it almost sounded like music. In this place too, there were occasional remains of claw marks in the stone, but it only added to the contradicting attraction.

A stomach grumbled. Armadimon shuffled his feet, embarrassed.

Cody sighed, tired. "We don't have anything to eat, Armadimon."

"I know," mumbled the digimon unhappily.

They continued on their way, TK trailing his right hand along the wall to their right. It was a trick about labyrinths he had heard once, though he didn't know how true it was. If keeping one hand on the wall and following it could lead them to the exit, it was worth a try. Compass they might have, but that meant little if one didn't know in which direction the exit was supposed to be.

"You know, we don't know how long we are still going to be in this place. Eventually, we are going to need something to eat," thought TK aloud.

"But we don't have anything. And we don't know it that moss might be poisonous," Cody pointed out. Truthfully, they were all getting hungry.

TK nodded. "I agree. Still. I suggest we are going to try to make due with only water for as long as possible."

"The water tastes good," informed Patamon them wisely. "If the glowing moss is growing from it, I don't think it'll be bad."

Looking at the plant in question, TK, despite the reasonably sounding argument of his partner, raised a dubious eyebrow. "I don't know. No moss I ever heard of is supposed to glow. I don't want to start glowing all of a sudden, do you?" He joked.

Patamon giggled. "I think you'd make a pretty Glowing TK."

TK smiled. "I'd rather not."

"Ah, don't!"

Too late. Tai dropped his head into his hand.

"What?" Demanded Matt, Gabumon stepping next him and Holsmon releasing evolution. Yolei gave him also an odd look. "What?"

"Nothing," sighed Tai. "I'm just thinking that our digivices can be tracked. And now they will know where the two of you are."

The four new arrivals traded looks. Matt brought their problem to the point. "What are you talking about? How'd you get that idea?"

Tai sighed again, running a hand through his mob of hair. "We haven't been attacked since Agumon stopped evolving and I deactivated my digivice. Before digimon were dark-evolving left and right."

"You deactivated your digivice," repeated Matt incredulously. "That's why ours don't react even now -wait."The rest of what Tai had said caught up with him. "What do you mean dark-evolving?"

Now it was Tai's turn to be puzzled. "You haven't noticed? Haven't you been attacked?"

"Not once," said Yolei, frowning. "But we have been flying fast for the last day or so. We were just deciding to take a break and were lucky to spot you. What makes you think you get attacked because of your digivice," she asked, curious.

Yolei was one with the more analytical minds of their group and Tai had little doubt that whatever conclusions she could draw from Tai's observations were more accurate than his. So he told them about Koromon village, about the random evolutions, about the more random dark evolutions, how he had been fleeing and always been found with hardly a break until Agumon was too tired to evolve and just fought as Agumon and how after that no they hadn't been attacked again.

All the while, he got his friends moving; by now he was a bit too jumpy and paranoid to just plain hope he was wrong with his assumption.

Yolei mulled the facts over, hand on her chin. "Well, since so far we haven't been attacked, maybe it has more to do with your digivice or with Agumon than it has with digivice or evolution in gene-"

She was interrupted by the crashing of trees and ominous vibrations in the soft earth. As one, all six pairs of eyes turned to the right. There was nothing to see from their position, but there was little doubt something decidedly less than friendly was around.

"Excuse me." Hawkmon flapped his wings a few times, rising over the tree lines and almost dropping straight back down again. They stared at him, Tai with a sinking feeling in his gut. Hawkmon, polite to a fault, just said. "I am inclined to agree with Taichi-san."

Bed feeling confirmed, there was only one thing to do. "Run!"

From the corners of his eyes, Tai saw how his friends scrambled to turn off their digivices as they ran down the hill.

"Hey!" Yolei exclaimed. "My D-terminal got a signal again!"

"Later! Run!"

Koji was watching coldly.

There was really nothing else to do.

Pretending to be the girl's partner, he stood in front of her, dispassionately. It was not the way he would prefer to spend his time, but what he preferred was very low on his list of priority. The situation he found himself in did not allow for choices of preference.

Standing still, Koji had a lot of time to think, time to plan and plan he did.

Everything would be a matter of timing and precision. He'd also need a great deal of good luck, but he was determined to not let eventual lack of it get in his way. For the grater good -internally, he snorted at the phrasing- there were things that had to be done and only Koji could do them.

So he would do them.

If that required him to watch as a girl was swallowed alive by the living fortress that was also his prison, then that was what he would do. Besides, she was mostly unconscious already. Besides, getting absorbed didn't hurt. Yet.

Biding his time, Koji, in Gatomon's shell, stood by and watched.

Raihimon had covered a lot of land quickly, searching, the remnants of Koichi desiring a way away from this world. Ash coated his black armor, clinging, as he rose higher and higher, into the clouds until he was forced to conclude that there was no sky beyond the clouds. He let himself fall back down, only catching the fall when he could identify the trees by themselves.

A dead world.

Raihimon, Darkness from the very core of its being spun into a powerful and noble shape, flew over the land aimlessly, only waking to care about the passing of land and time when his sharp brown eyes caught a form, solid looming and eternal so very different from everything else he had seen in this place.

His clawed feet touched the ground and data dispersed in dark light from his form. It was Koichi how raised his head up to take in the size of the building at which's front he found himself. Expressionless, he climbed the stairs and set to explore the gray and stale insides of this forgotten temple, a foreboding feeling chilling him.

This is the chapter for May.

Hope you like it. If you do and if you don't, leave me a review. Do you have suggestions? Critique? Likes? Dislikes? Complains?

TBC.